and right religious attitudes are the _means_ by which to lead to skill
in right living as the _end_.

In the last analysis the child does not come to us that he may learn
this or that set of facts, nor that he may develop such and such a group
of feelings, but that through these he may live better. The final test
of our teaching, therefore, is just this: Because of our instruction,
does the child _live_ differently here and now, as a child, in all his
multiform relations in the home, the school, the church, the community,
and in his own personal life? Are the lessons we teach translated
continuously into better conduct, finer acts, and stronger character as
shown in the daily run of the learner's experience?

It is true that the full fruits of our teaching and of the child's
learning must wait for time and experience to bring the individual to
fuller development. But it is also true that it is impossible for the
child to lay up a store of unused knowledge and have it remain against a
later time of need in a distant future. The only knowledge that forms a
vital part of our equipment is knowledge that is in active service,
guiding our thought and decisions from day to day. Unused knowledge
quickly vanishes away, leaving little more permanent impression on the
life than that left on the wave when we plunge our hand into the water
and take it out again. In similar way the interests, ideals, and
emotions which are aroused without at the same time affording a natural
outlet for expression in deeds and conduct soon fade away without having
fulfilled the purpose for which they exist. The great thing in religious
education is to find _immediate and natural outlet in expression_, a way
for the child to _use_ what he learns; to get the child to _do_ those
things pointed out by the lessons we teach him.